


Playing Games

by IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack Treated Seriously, Deception, For Gellert and Albus anyway, HEA, M/M, Manipulation, Mistaken Identity, epic jealousy, mind games as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23087794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis/pseuds/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis
Summary: What if Travers was actually Grindelwald?Albus figures out that Gellert is once again ‘pulling a Graves’ - but this time, it is the British Ministry that he is infiltrating.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Comments: 31
Kudos: 99





	1. Albus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vandrerska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandrerska/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus always did love playing games with Gellert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Vandrerska - "The moment I give up trying to outwit you..."

It was clear to Albus the moment the admonitors appeared on his wrists. It was such an extreme reaction - as a civilian, he was well within his legal rights to refuse to fight Gellert. Travers had always disliked him, but this was a bit over the top, even for him. It was almost as if he wanted Albus to suffer no matter how he answered: either by having to fight a man he had cared for, or by having his freedom taken from him.  
Or was Travers instead completely prepared for his refusal? Had Travers known that Albus had no choice but to refuse?  
There was only one person who was this dramatic and who hated Albus completely, only one person who knew about the blood pact: Gellert.

///

Albus walked wearily to his quarters. He ought not to have spent so much time with the Mirror. No, he ought not to have spent time with the Mirror at all – losing time in front of it was inevitable. But he had to know if the image was the same as it had always been before. 

It wasn’t. 

Every time before, he had seen only that summer – sealing the pact, or making love, or lying side by side in a clearing laughing at one another’s jokes. What he had desired more than anything was a return to the past.  
He had seen that today too, but now, now he also saw _present_ Gellert looking at him with desire. What he wanted more than anything was for Gellert to want him now, to want him still.  
Would he have known to desire a present, even a future with Gellert, if Gellert had not returned? Would he have dared to desire it above all other things? Or would he have gone on seeing only a past love that eluded him? Would he have continued to fruitlessly desire to return to what he had lost, to live only in that summer, looping through those days forever? 

He opened the door to his quarters and went straight to his bed. Taking off only his shoes, he lay on his back, and looked up at the enchanted night sky woven into the inside of the canopy. With a wave of his wand the scene changed to white puffy clouds slowly drifting across a blue sky. He then called forth the sounds he associated with the woods in Godric’s Hollow: the creek splashing and racing around the stones in its path, the song of birds, the leaves rustling in the breeze. He took an extra pillow and held it to his chest.

Why was Gellert here? What did Gellert expect him to do once he found out? If he didn’t report Gellert right away, would he assume that Albus was still in the dark? Or was he arrogant enough to believe that Albus would never expose him?  
Would exposing him constitute causing Gellert harm? Would the pact even allow it?

They had been foolish to have spent so little time researching a ritual of such significance. Reckless. But Albus couldn’t regret having made the pact, even now. To regret it would be to regret ever having loved him.

Even if the pact did allow exposing Gellert, Albus told himself, he had escaped MACUSA – he had completely gotten away with impersonating – and perhaps even murdering - Percival Graves. If he were taken into custody here, he would simply disappear to somewhere else. There was no containing the man. If Albus said nothing, he would know right where Gellert was, for once. 

Once it had occurred to Albus that Travers might not be Travers at all, everything about that afternoon made more sense.  
The arrogant way ‘Travers’ had dismissed his whole class, for instance.  
And this memory of Gellert’s – the Ministry wouldn’t have the memory unless Gellert had _let them take it._ Why would he have done so? And why would Britain have it and not America? How had Travers gotten it?

Then there was the way ‘Travers’ had weirdly complimented him. Albus was certainly not the only powerful wizard in Europe – not the only wizard who might be Gellert’s equal. Only Gellert had ever thought that. Hence the vow never to harm one another – Albus was the only wizard Gellert thought he’d ever need to protect himself against. That view made sense when they were teenagers and their knowledge of the world was limited, but now – 

Finally, why would Travers have insisted that Newt was blindly following him? There was no surer way to antagonize Theseus – his own Head Auror – than to blindly accuse Newt. Travers, for all of his idiocy, would have known that, surely. 

Newt. Why was Gellert so obsessed with him? He wasn’t – interested in Newt, was he? Albus felt a rush of jealousy, then pushed it down. Surely not. And in any case, one didn’t show one’s interest by sentencing someone to death.  
He laughed. Gellert might. ‘A little test, Liebling – If you die, I was wrong to be attracted to you; if you live, it may be that you are as interesting as I had hoped.’

Albus squeezed the pillow more tightly to his chest. If that was what was happening, Newt had passed Gellert’s test, and that meant he was being replaced –  
Wait, no. No, he hadn’t. Newt had failed to correctly answer the most essential question – Newt had reacted with confusion, anger, avoidance… not with interest. Newt was no longer playing the game – Newt was…  
… in Paris trying to confound Gellert’s plans, as Albus had directed him to do. 

Albus pulled the pillow over his face and groaned. Gellert and Newt would end up together, and it would be Albus’ fault for taking so long to see what was happening between them. He shouted and the pillow shot across the room and slumped beneath a window.

After a moment, he took a breath.  
“Don’t be an idiot, Dumbledore. Newt is not Gellert’s type,” he said aloud to himself.

Gellert’s type being someone who would understand being sentenced to death as foreplay. Some would say that Albus might do well to examine why that would work so well on him. 

Albus unbuttoned his trousers and began thinking about different ways Gellert might try to kill him, how he might escape, and what would happen afterwards.  
It would not be the first time he had come thinking of Gellert’s games, but this particular scenario – state execution – this was new. And so exciting that he lasted half as long as usual.  
For once, he did not feel ashamed afterwards. He was not unwanted - Gellert had come back for him.

///

When Albus woke the next morning, he wondered for a moment if he were only wishing that Travers was actually Gellert – if he wanted so badly for Gellert to have come for him that he was imagining things.  
No, he was certain. He wondered how long it would take for Gellert to realize that he knew. He hadn’t had such a challenge since – Gellert.  
He sighed. Gellert might be right – they had no equals. It had been a lonely twenty-eight years.

What had Gellert been doing during all their time apart? Besides collecting a mob around him?

Albus laughed, remembering how the children had looked to Albus before leaving, not ready to obey the very Head of Magical Law Enforcement without their professor’s say so. Albus had his own mob, of sorts. That must have rankled: Gellert, who prided himself on his ability to command anyone, being ignored by children.

Gellert’s chosen followers were small minded bigots – it took no skill to manipulate such people. Albus, being a teacher, knew that children were the _least_ likely to be manipulated in such a situation. They were loyal, and when in the safety of a group, unafraid of wrongful authority. The way they could turn on a substitute teacher… no group of adults would be so bold as to behave that way.  
Albus was unsurprised, if amused, by the way they had treated ‘Travers.’ Gellert, though, must have been offended by it – unless he knew what Albus knew about the nature of children. Had he been impersonating teachers, also? Perhaps impersonating nursery attendants? Albus laughed harder. 

He sobered. If he was right, if Travers was actually Gellert, then this was a dangerous situation. He wished he could have told Theseus more, but Theseus didn’t seem to trust him any longer. Not like he used to. He had done the best he could, telling Theseus to disobey any order to move in on Gellert’s rally.

That was probably the real reason why Gellert was here. Travers was stupid, but his stupidity was not always predictable. Any ineptitude on Travers’ part would be seen as in character – but Travers failing in Gellert’s favour could only be guaranteed if Gellert himself were playing the role. Gellert needed the Aurors to make a heavy-handed show of power that would fan the flames of discontent and give Gellert something to point to, to fight against.  
He wasn’t here for Albus. He was here for himself.

Then again, if further inciting his followers was his only goal, why wouldn't Gellert have infiltrated the _French_ ministry? He must have another reason. Surely, Albus would rank as a reason to come to Britain?

Albus decided that that was enough self-doubt before breakfast. Gellert was here for him, or he would have not initiated the game. Albus touched the admonitors thoughtfully. He smiled. It was almost like Gellert had marked him. Publicly. Yes, these were evidence enough. 

///

Albus saw Gellert take a step forward and then stop himself when Albus floated the blood pact up for him to see. He needn’t have done it – Newt had handed it to him discretely. But he had wanted Gellert to see that he had it.  
This was the first time that Albus had held it since the day before Gellert had left. It felt warm. It was beating like a heart. A heart beating too quickly – beating in time with Gellert’s heart as he wondered what Albus would do to the pact. Let him wonder. 

Albus would sleep with it every night. It was important not to let Gellert take it back. All part of the game – to make him work for it and still fail.  
Albus wondered if Gellert might go so far as to crawl into bed with him one night, looking for it. His hand on Albus’ neck, trying to remove the chain… Albus would feel it and wake up, and then… 

No. Now was not the time to think about this. He would wait until he was alone. For now, there was more work to be done. He lifted up his arms, and Theseus removed the admonitors. Albus smirked when he noticed ‘Travers’ looking at Theseus incredulously. Would he begin to suspect Theseus of conspiring with Albus, or would he imagine something more? Would he be jealous? 

For a moment, he considered warning Theseus, but he couldn’t risk Theseus insisting on exposing Gellert right away. This was their own private game, just him and Gellert. Theseus could take care of himself.  
Albus wondered how long it would take for Theseus to recognize that Travers was not Travers at all. This was getting better and better.

///

“About Newt. There’s really nothing between the two of you?”  
“You must be on poor terms with your brother, these days, if you don’t know the answer for yourself.”  
Theseus gritted his teeth.  
“I’m just – looking out for him.” 

“He’s sixteen years younger than me, Theseus.”  
‘And far too straightforward to be my type,’ Albus added silently.  
“That’s not an answer.”  
Theseus. Always such a bulldog.

“No. The answer is no. I’m not interested in him in that way, and he is not interested in men at all.”  
“Good. That’s good.”

“Are you looking out for him really? Or jealous?”  
“I think you know the answer to that question.”  
“Yes, I think I do. Why are you here, Theseus?”  
“To ask after the blood pact. It seems important, if you are going to fight Grindelwald –“

“I never said I would fight him – I said I couldn’t because of the blood pact. I didn’t say that I would if the blood pact did not exist. In any case, I cannot guarantee that I can destroy it."  
“Newt said that you were going to try.”  
“Did he? I still haven’t done enough research to know that it is even theoretically possible to destroy it. When Gellert and I made it, we were specifically looking for something permanent, unbreakable.”

“I don’t understand why you made it in the first place. A blood pact, Albus. No one makes those anymore.”  
“We were young. We didn’t understand what we were doing.”  
“I saw the way you looked at that memory of you two. You knew exactly what you were doing.”  
“Being in love with a person is different from knowing the consequences of being in love with them.”  
“I’m well aware.”

“You are not really here for the blood pact, are you?”  
“No, I’m not. I - now that Leta –“  
Albus cringed internally. Surely not.

“Yes, I didn’t have a chance to say anything to you at the memorial service. I’m so sorry, Theseus.”  
“Yes, thank you, but – that is not what I was saying. Leta and I – I am single again now, and I was wondering if you might – “

It had been three years since Theseus had last come on to Albus. He had been expecting this, but not so soon after Leta’s death. It had only been a month since the slaughter in Paris. 

“No, Theseus. You know that the answer is no. Enough questions. I have papers to grade.”  
Albus walked Theseus to the door of his office. Before Albus could open the door, Theseus wrapped an arm around Albus and whispered in his ear, “I still love you, you know.”  
Albus gently pulled away and opened the door.  
“Thesesus, go home.”

Poor Theseus.  
He was attractive. Intelligent. But Albus’ heart would always belong to Gellert. He couldn’t take advantage of Theseus’ feelings that way. He would not use Theseus simply to stave off the loneliness.  
But he could at least offer a warning. 

“Watch out for Travers.”  
“Travers?” Theseus looked confused. Then he smoothed his features. “Yes, Travers is an idiot, isn’t he? I don’t understand how we all work with him day in and day out without going insane.”

“No, you don't understand – he’s already tried to kill you once.”  
“You’re mad, Albus! What could you possibly mean?”  
“Sending you in there to Grindelwald’s rally. Did you notice he didn’t go himself? Just sent all the Aurors in there to die?"  
But Theseus hadn't died, Albus realized. And neither had Newt... Something was not lining up. Perhaps there had to be survivors? Famous survivors? Or...  
Albus shook his head. "In fact… I’m beginning to find it suspicious that you and Newt _didn’t_ die. Very strange. Don’t you think?”

“I – uh – have only fought Grindelwald that one time. I wouldn’t know.”  
“Then take my word for it. That was strange. Travers tries to kill you, plays right into Gellert’s hands, and then Gellert spares you.”  
“Spared us,” Theseus muttered under his breath.  
Then he sighed.  
“Yes, Albus, it is all very strange. Let me know when you have figured out what it means.”

Theseus turned away.  
“No – wait – Theseus! I _am_ letting you know. It’s Travers –“  
Theseus turned around to walk backwards down the hall.  
“Get some sleep, Albus. You look terrible.”  
He turned back around and disappeared down a staircase.

///

A week later, Travers showed up at the school. It was Albus’ turn to be on Hogsmeade duty, so he told Travers that, if he wanted to talk to him, he could accompany him to Madam Puddifoot’s. The little café had opened two years ago and had become the favoured place for students to take their dates. Albus was amused that he had asked Gellert out on a date, and that Gellert had said yes without knowing what he was saying yes to. 

When they opened the door, Travers sputtered. “It’s so pink! And it’s filled with students!”  
“I know. Aren’t they adorable? Young love…”

“How will we talk? All the tables are so close together!”  
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, _Travers_ , I’m sure you know how to put up a privacy charm just as well as I do.”  
Travers scowled and cast a spell over their table.

“Now Dumbledore. Tell me about the blood pact.”  
“I wonder how you know about the blood pact… Could it be the same way you knew about that memory of Grindelwald’s?”  
“He managed to hide the pact from us, the bastard. No, you are the one who showed it to us. Such typical arrogance!”  
‘Typical arrogance.’ Gellert was one to talk.

“I’m not a fool, Travers. There is no way you could tell exactly what the pendant was from that distance.”  
“It doesn’t matter how I know. What matters is whether you plan to destroy it!”  
“I don’t know if I can.”  
“Just like you ‘can’t move against Grindelwald?’ If you ‘can’t’ destroy it, I will find someone who can. You should have already given it to me.”  
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Dumbledore, do not be perverse. _Yes_ , I would like that. Someone needs to break that thing.”  
“You don’t like it when I’m – perverse?” Albus asked provocatively.  
Travers looked alarmed for a moment, then grim. “You are treading on thin ice, Dumbledore.”  
Albus sighed impatiently. 

“Fine, we’ll play it your way.”  
In a bored singsong, he continued, “There’s no point in me giving you the pact, because no one else will be able to break it if I can’t. You yourself said that there was no one more powerful than I am.”

“Perhaps I should have cared less about finding a powerful wizard, and instead looked for help from a wizard not handicapped by his love for Grindelwald.”  
Albus raised an eyebrow at Gellert. Yes. Now they were getting somewhere. 

“What makes you think I’m in love with Grindelwald?”  
“For one thing, that’s no simple pact. That’s a blood troth.”  
“And how would you –“  
“And for another, there’s the way you pined after that image of the two of you in his vision.”  
“That’s absurd.”  
Absurdly accurate.

“Now, if I knew for certain that the two of you had had relations – “  
Albus suppressed a giggle. Gellert having to restrain himself to the point of saying ‘relations’ in order not to break character. It was delicious.  
“ - of the sort that are required for sealing a blood troth, for instance – then I would be justified in having you thrown into Azkaban. And if I had any reason to suspect that these relations were ongoing, or even that past relations were muddying your allegiances, then I would be justified in having you kissed.”

“You can’t just sentence people to death without a trial,” Albus answered, excited. He had wondered why Gellert had waited so long to come see him again, but this morning was exceeding all expectations. The game was finally escalating. 

“Graves did. I should have at least as much power as –“  
“No, _Graves_ did not. _Grindelwald_ did.”  
Travers scowled at Dumbledore.

“Perhaps you have much more in common with Grindelwald than I do, _Travers_.”  
Travers threw down his napkin and stalked out of the restaurant. Albus smiled at the concerned students at a nearby table.  
“Apparently the Director was not satisfied with our _date_ ,” he said with a wink, and the children burst into laughter. 

If only they knew, Albus thought, shaking his head with a smile. He settled the bill and walked out into the village.

///

The following day, Travers arrived at the school with several Aurors. Not Theseus though. It was as Albus had thought – Gellert was freezing Theseus out, now that he had figured out their ‘history.’ It was all in Theseus’ mind, of course, but that would be enough for Gellert. He’d always been violently jealous. In the twenty-eight years since he had last seen Gellert, he had only ever heard from him if Gellert was making threats regarding some (imaginary) paramour. 

“You will be coming with me, Dumbledore.”  
“And why would that be, exactly?”  
“You are being brought in for questioning under suspicion of colluding with Gellert Grindelwald.”  
Albus had no more _colluded_ with Gellert these past twenty-eight years than he had _had relations_ with him. It occurred to him that ‘collusion’ made an excellent euphemism – much better than ‘having relations.’ He laughed.

“What sort of _collusion_ is it that you suspect, Travers? Or perhaps you are disappointed at how many years it has been since any such _collusion_ could even be reasonably inferred?”  
Travers looked confused.

“Why would I be disappointed?”  
“You know why.”  
“Because I couldn’t arrest you?”  
“And wouldn’t you like to have me alone in a Ministry cell?”

Travers began to turn red with anger.  
“I’ve never liked you, Dumbledore.“  
“Oh, we both know that’s not true. There was a time when you liked me very much.“  
Travers started stammering.  
“Don’t – don’t – don’t – That’s it! Everyone out!”

Albus laughed and turned to go.  
“NOT you, Dumbledore. I don’t know what you think is happening here, but you are in a great deal of trouble. You are under arrest. Either you are conspiring with Grindelwald, or you are not – and if you are not, then you will not mind being used as bait to capture him.”

“I will too mind! I don’t just exist to bend to your whims, _Travers_. But supposing I did positively _yearn_ to be of use to you, why would Grindelwald come for me if I am _not_ conspiring with him?”  
Gellert looked Albus in the eye and held his gaze. For a moment, Albus considered using legilimency, but he decided that wouldn’t be sporting.

At last, Gellert spoke.  
“If he was carrying that blood troth on his person all these years –“  
“Blood _pact_ – “  
“Blood _troth_ – then he obviously still – “ Travers grimaced, “ _loves_ you.”

Albus perked up. He had not thought to hear Gellert actually say the words. And the fact that he had said it grudgingly made it that much better.  
“Well, by all means then. How can I say no to such a brazen invitation to _collude_ with you? Take me to the DMLE – let’s see if Grindelwald finds me worth rescuing.”

///

Albus had understood that interrogations were usually Theseus’ job. But it was all part of the game.  
To an outside observer, it must have appeared like an excruciating two hours of questioning – being asked over and over again how he had felt about Gellert, how much Gellert had influenced his thinking, whether he had tried to contact Gellert over the years, whether he still had feelings for him… it would have been humiliating if it had been anyone but Gellert himself asking. But as a game, it was exhilarating: answering with the primary purpose of antagonizing Gellert, while still making replies that were appropriate to the setting. If there were a transcript (there wouldn’t be, but _if_ there were), an outsider would not notice anything unusual about his responses.

Albus had thrown Gellert several times – perhaps the people he had been surrounding himself with were not nearly as intelligent as Albus’ cohort. Admittedly, there were no professors at Hogwarts who came close to having Gellert’s intelligence – or entertainment value – but every one of them was far more clever than your average witch or wizard. And apparently far _far_ more clever than any of Gellert’s lieutenants, if this ‘interrogation’ was anything to go by. 

“Losing your edge, are you _Travers?_ ” Albus taunted him.  
The Auror who had been sitting in on the questioning coughed. Travers shot her an angry look and she left.  
(That young woman could always be obliviated later – Gellert had always been so good at obliviations. It shouldn’t be arousing to think of Gellert wiping a person’s memory, but it was, and Albus was through with questioning his feelings for Gellert.)  
“You should be more concerned about whether or not I am losing my _authority_ , Dumbledore. I think that I’ve had enough of your impertinence. It seems past time to call for a Dementor. “

“You’re not serious! I thought this was all some sort of game – catch Gellert and all that.”  
“Oh, no, Dumbledore. I am not letting this chance pass.”  
For the first time, Albus felt a bit afraid. Perhaps he had underestimated Gellert’s anger over their long separation. But he quickly relaxed. He had anticipated this, after all. Escaping execution - this was all part of the game. 

“How far are you going to let this go, Gellert?”  
‘Travers’ recoiled. “What?! What are you talking about Dumbledore?”

Albus stood and began walking towards Gellert.  
“You know exactly what I’m talking about – you hardly needed to go to all this trouble – I want you at least as badly as you want me.”  
“Dumbledore – I don’t know who told you about that, but that was nothing more than a passing schoolboy confusion – I am a happily married man.”  
Albus laughed. “Oh? _Happily_ married? Let’s not pretend you are so easily pleased.”  
He took a step closer.

“Take one more step, Dumbledore, and I am...”  
Albus closed in on Travers, pressed him up against the wall, and kissed him.  
He pulled back for a moment.  
“I do wish you’d change back. This is very off-putting.”  
Then he returned his mouth to Travers’ and bit his bottom lip in order to make him gasp his mouth open so Albus’ tongue could enter. 

The door opened. “I heard you were holding Albus Dumbledore in here – Albus?! What the fuck!”  
Theseus cast a Stupefy on Travers.  
Theseus grabbed Albus’ shoulder and growled, “Why were you kissing Travers?” 

There was no right answer. But Travers – the real Travers - was such a cretin, Albus found he could not abide anyone thinking he was kissing him. Even if the real answer got both himself and Gellert imprisoned. Killed? Hopefully not killed. This was Theseus, after all.

“That’s not Travers, Theseus.”  
“That most certainly is Travers.”  
“No, it’s –“ Albus sighed. “That’s Gellert Grindelwald.”  
Theseus' nose wrinkled in disgust. “What makes you think that _that_ is Grindelwald?”  
“It’s a long story. Just – please, Theseus, don’t call for a Dementor – please, I’ll do anything – “

“Oh? You would do - anything?” Theseus asked, reaching for Albus.  
“Theseus – I can’t –“  
“You said ‘anything’ – and you kissed Travers, after all –“

“I did not kiss Travers! I kissed Gellert!”  
“ _Gellert_ , is it? What exactly is it you feel for Gellert, Albus? Is this why you never said yes to me? Because you were pining after some criminal?”  
Albus closed his eyes and looked away. “I have never kissed anyone but Gellert, Theseus. I’ll do it to save his life, but just consider - do you really want me to kiss you if I’m only doing it for someone else?”

“Never kissed anyone but me, Liebling? That’s a shame. Without any frame of reference, you have no way of knowing what a very good kisser I am.”  
Albus looked up into Gellert’s face.  
“Gellert?! But –“

Albus looked down at Travers and back at Gellert.  
“Sweet Merlin. I kissed Travers.”  
Gellert laughed uproariously. “Yes, you did. I will forgive you because you didn’t know it wasn’t me. I shall have to obliviate him though.”  
Obliviate him!  
Albus did not swoon. He was only slightly dizzy – and that could easily be explained by… low blood sugar, perhaps.

“Just a moment ago, you were chastising me for never having kissed anyone but you.”  
“I think we both know I did not mean it. In any case, Travers is completely beneath you.”  
“Fortunately, not.”  
Gellert’s lip twitched, as if he were trying very hard not to show his appreciation for such a weak innuendo.

Gellert changed his appearance so that he was back to looking like Theseus.  
“Will you kiss me now that you know it is me?”  
“I would rather you would be yourself.”  
“You can have plenty of me later, if you wish. Right now, I would have you kiss me like this.”

Albus balked.  
“Why are you Theseus at all?”  
“His position in the Ministry gives me access to…”  
“Travers’ position would have given you more access, and more free time in which to pursue your own ends, too, given his work habits.”

Gellert sighed.  
“I captured him after the rally. I had asked Newt if you would miss him if I killed him...”  
“Gellert. I have never had any feelings for Newt, beyond a sort of – distantly paternal fondness.”  
“Yes, yes. I know that _now_. Don’t interrupt. I asked Newt, and _Theseus thought I meant him._ If it hadn’t been for Leta –“

“You needn’t have killed Leta,” Albus interrupted.  
He had liked Leta. She had been a good student, clever. Kind to people who deserved it, but devious too…

“ _She_ needn’t have tried to kill _me_.”  
“Fine. I’ll concede your point for now. So – you captured Theseus…”  
“And I had my Legilimens read him.”  
“You could have very well –“  
“Done it myself, I know. If I hadn’t been afraid that there was something there that I might not want to see.”

Oh. Yes, that would be awful. Albus began to wonder who Gellert might have slept with, these past decades. He would rather some third party tell him than have to see it himself.

“The things he has thought about you, Albus. It’s revolting.”  
Revolting? That was intriguing…  
“Therefore – it seemed appropriate to ruin his reputation.”  
That was... better than the usual consequence for fantasizing about one Albus Dumbledore.

“It seems that 'Theseus' has been sharing information with Grindelwald, and is now kidnapping you and taking you to him.”  
“Kidnapping?”  
“I’m giving you an out. If you find you need one.”  
That was considerate. Sweet, even, but...

“I’m not going with you at all, Gellert.”  
“Aren’t you? You were mighty quick to kiss Travers when you thought he was me, earlier. Or did that not mean anything? You weren’t going to run away with him?”  
“With you, you arse. But that was when I thought that you had –“

Gellert began laughing.  
“You thought I’d killed Travers for you!”  
No… Well, yes, but more than that – he had thought Gellert had worked harder for it. There hadn’t been much to this enterprise at all, in comparison to what he had imagined. If Gellert wanted Albus to go with him, he was going to have to do more than simply ask. Albus had standards.

“You were turned on by me murdering some minor inconvenience of a man, who –“  
“That 'minor inconvenience' was about ready to have my soul forcibly removed from me simply for sleeping with you thirty years ago!”  
“Twenty-eight. And you would have found a way out of it,” Gellert said dismissively.

It was true. He would have gotten out of it. And did he really wish to upgrade _Travers_ from nuisance to nemesis?  
“And now, instead of turned on, you are angry with me for killing Theseus. But, you see, I didn’t.”  
Obviously. Or – Albus had assumed he hadn’t when Gellert had said that he was ruining Theseus’ reputation. But of course that didn’t rule out murder…  
“You didn’t?” Albus feigned disbelief.  
“Of course not! An Auror of his reputation, completely loyal to you? Why would I waste such a resource?”

“You would have, if I had shown any interest in him whatsoever.”  
“Lucky for him, you didn’t. It was miserably clear that his feelings were unrequited,” Gellert said, grinning.  
Grinning with Theseus' face. It was odd to see Theseus looking so gleeful about Albus not returning his feelings.

“So – I will kiss you as Theseus first. I want to show him in a pensieve. I want him to see exactly what he is not getting.”  
Forget standards. So he'd been interrogated by Travers instead of Gellert - Albus' mistake was hardly Gellert's fault. And Gellert's jealous taunting of his imaginary rival was, as always, unnecessarily epic. Gellert was ruining Theseus' reputation _and_ rubbing his nose in their relationship! How much more romantic could you get?

Albus rolled his eyes. “You are so predictable.”  
“Apparently not! You thought I was – never mind. We can talk about it at Nurmengard. There will be more Aurors here any minute. Possibly with one of those cursed Dementors. Now hurry up and - ”  
Albus pulled Gellert to him and kissed him. Not as thoroughly as he would have done if Gellert were Gellert, but it was a small thing he was asking, really. No reason not to give it to him. 

“Fine, yes. Kidnap me. Just in case. But first - drop the transfiguration? So I can kiss you as yourself?”  
“Hmmm. No. You can kiss me again when we get to Nurmengard.” 

///

Albus looked out over the valley.  
“I wish I didn’t have to leave Hogwarts.”  
“Well, you could always escape the evil Grindelwald. You would have the sympathy of everyone.”

“Oh?” Albus came back to bed and kissed Gellert.  
“Why would I want to escape before I have collected all of the intelligence that I possibly can? His favourite _torture techniques_ , for instance? I have not even begun to scratch the surface.”  
Gellert turned away from Albus.  
“Speaking of scratching the surface… between my shoulder blades? A little lower… towards the bed more… Aaaaa! Yes, keep going… Aaaaa! Yes! That’s it!”

Albus groaned, pulled Gellert over onto his back, and climbed on top of him.  
“Merlin, the noises you make!”  
Albus kissed Gellert the way he had been longing to do for years – he had only been in Nurmengard two days, but he knew that he could never kiss Gellert enough to make up for the years he had missed.

Gellert pressed his hand against Albus’ chest and pushed him up just enough for them to look at one another comfortably.  
“Do you truly miss Hogwarts, Albus?”  
He missed his students. He missed having a purpose. But this was nothing compared to how much he had missed Gellert all these years.

“I have not been away long enough to miss anything! It would be more true to say that I suspect that I will begin to miss teaching before long.” 

“I wish you to be happy with me, Liebling. We’ll be taking Durmstrang this year. Castelobruxo looks ready to fall to us as well. You can still teach children, if that is what you truly want. But you could instead be teaching my followers – you could have your own army.”  
“I never wanted an army, Gellert.”

“Yes, you did.”  
“I don’t want an army _anymore_ , then.”  
“Even if you get to control their methods, their objectives? I need you, Albus.”

Albus grinned. “Let’s make it a game.”  
“Oh, a game?” Gellert asked, pulling Albus down into a searing kiss.  
Albus pulled back, gasping, and looked Gellert in his eyes. 

“Well, I do so like to play with you.”  
“What is the game? A shameless spiralling down into depravity?”  
“Oh no, I plan to challenge you for control of your movement, from the inside.”  
“Rules?”  
“Mind games only. No violence.”

“’No violence’ is too broad. No violence against one another.”  
Gellert pushed Albus off of him roughly, and Albus laughed.  
“No, that would be too much of a hardship," Gellert corrected himself. "Instead – no damaging one another. Play violence only.”  
“That goes without saying,” Albus said, touching the pendant, now on a chain around Gellert’s neck. 

“Let’s say - no _direct_ violence,” Albus suggested.  
Gellert shook his head, as if disappointed in Albus.  
“No direct violence _against followers_ , unless they have betrayed us.”  
“Betrayed us _both_ ,” Albus amended.  
Gellert paused to consider this change.  
“Acceptable.”

Albus smirked. _This_ was a game he would win.


	2. Gellert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Gellert playing the same game that Albus is playing?
> 
> This chapter covers the same time period as the previous chapter, but from Gellert's point of view, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this had been conceived as a one shot, but I could not resist sharing what the game looked like Gellert's perspective. 
> 
> * If you follow The Greater Good, I promise that I am nearly done writing the next chapter! But recently my life has resembled chapter six of an eight chapter 'angst with an ambiguous ending' type fic, which is _exhausting_. This chapter was what I was capable of writing today.  
> Hopefully my life will soon resolve into a 'crack taken seriously' one shot, but in the meantime, my output might be... irregular.

“You and Grindelwald were as close as brothers.”  
“We were closer than brothers.”  
Gellert could hear the tension in Albus’ voice. Albus still loved him. Or at least, he remembered what it meant to love him. Gellert had wondered, had hated himself for wondering.  
Why hadn’t he come for Albus sooner?  
For a moment, he could not remember, but then it came back to him – because _Albus_ had never come for _him_.

///

Being Travers was repulsive. His clothes were of a poor quality and itchy. He had a perpetually sour disposition. His house was hideous (thank all the stars he had Abernathy to play Travers in the off hours, so that Gellert could put up his feet in a luxurious suite in a Muggle hotel. The things that you could confound a Muggle into giving you…)  
But the worst thing about Travers was not the way he smelled, or the way he had offended seemingly every Ministry employee – no, the worst was that Travers’ intelligence was significantly subpar, and yet he thought that he was more clever than Albus Dumbledore.

 _No one_ was as bright as Albus. No one was so powerful, or so interesting… or So. Fucking. Gorgeous. It was dangerous to be in the same room with the man – Gellert had twice nearly lost his focus.  
In Gellert’s mind, Albus had remained a boy of 18. It was disorienting to be faced with this 46 year old who was somehow even better looking now than he had been when Gellert had left. That beard… Gellert missed Albus’ long hair, but the beard he loved.  
He imagined this older Albus with his mouth around Gellert’s cock, and his trousers began to feel too tight. Gellert laughed at himself and locked the door.

“Yes,” he said, speaking to his cock in the way that used to make Albus laugh – in the way that he hadn’t done in years because it ached to do _anything_ the way he had done it with Albus. “Yes, it is your turn to be taken care of now. You’ve been so patient.”

He unbuttoned his trousers and began stroking himself slowly.  
That man… still so handsome it was distracting, still stupidly cocky. He had looked so relaxed and confident when the room was finally empty of students, as if he had the upper hand. He might have done, if it really had been Travers standing against him. On the surface, it looked like Albus’ entire life was a waste, duelling fifteen year olds – on the surface, Travers had reason to imagine himself Albus’ better. But Albus was no safer than a sleeping tiger. Travers had been wrong to underestimate him – Albus could have anything he wanted, best anyone he wanted… anyone but Gellert.

He pictured Albus’ face, the indignation and surprise when the admonitors appeared on his wrists... Gellert gasped and he gripped his cock more tightly. He picked up the pace as he lingered on that memory, and the moments just before – that glimpse at the warring guilt in Albus – his guilt over having left Gellert, and his guilt over being unable to fight him. Albus still wanted Gellert and felt dirty for wanting him. 

The blood pact left a great deal of leeway. He couldn’t hurt Albus physically, directly. But giving Albus pleasure that he wanted and didn’t want at the same time – Albus not fighting him, but fighting himself – hating himself more the better Gellert made him feel…

Gellert came calling out Albus’ name, as he always did. 

He lay still for a moment in Travers’ desk chair before cleaning himself and his clothing (and the desk, and the chair.) Yes, that confrontation could not have gone better. 

“Leta,” he said to Travers’ assistant as he walked out. “I’m going home to pack for Paris. Remind Theseus to put a detail on Dumbledore. The admonitors will not keep him from traveling by Muggle means.” He tossed a number of files on her desk. “You know what to do with these. I’ll see you at the Aurors Bureau in Paris. Do not be late to my meeting with M. Delacour.”

///

Gellert had played the part of Travers for three days before beginning to do anything of consequence. Better to get a feel for the role. It was astonishing how easy it had been. But then, he had been aided by the memories that he had pulled from Travers, as well as from Leta and a couple of Aurors. As long as everything he said was stupid, petty, arrogant, or controlling, he could do anything and remain in character. 

Once he was sure that everyone had accepted him as Travers, Gellert had scheduled a hearing for one Newton Scamander. He had manipulated Guzman into inviting Grimmson as a plan B, ‘in case Scamander says no.’ The outcome was guaranteed - he had encountered Albus’ little toy before and knew exactly how to make him reject the Ministry’s ‘offer.’

Killing two birds with one stone? Whoever coined that phrase was too easily satisfied. Gellert had killed four. Testing Grimmson’s loyalty, setting a plan in motion to bring Credence into the fold, needling Newt Scamander to the point of inducing his histrionics, and in the process embarrassing Theseus. A rousing success by any measure.

It had proven to be convenient that his Head Auror was the Scamander boy’s older brother. After the hearing, Theseus had been so wrong-footed by his younger brother’s performance that he seemed to be unable to push back on any plan Travers might come up with for the rest of the week. As long as Theseus was cornered into playing ‘model Ministry employee,’ it seemed a good time for Gellert to bring out his memories and suggest going after Albus.

“He has not been helping us. He is too personally involved – perhaps he is still friends with Grindelwald, but even if not, he is handicapped by a lingering sense of loyalty to the man.”

Theseus was silent. Gellert could see him struggling with himself, pushing down the urge to disagree – but when Theseus saw how Albus responded to being questioned, he would begin to doubt. He would pull further away from Albus, and half of Gellert’s work would be done. All that would be left would be to alienate Theseus from the Ministry, and this wizard could be turned. 

“We will show Dumbledore this memory, and tell him that he needs to help us, or be thought to be in league with Grindelwald.”  
At this, Theseus did speak up.  
“Forgive me, sir, but – Dumbledore does not respond well to ultimatums, in my experience. He may say no under those conditions simply to assert control over the situation.”

That was remarkably astute. Theseus was no Travers, it seemed.  
“He will say yes, Scamander, if he doesn’t want to be fitted with admonitors.” 

Gellert could not prevent a certain vicious glee from rising to the surface at the thought of fitting Albus with restraints against his will – of Albus having no recourse. Because of course Albus _couldn’t_ say yes – the punishment was inevitable.

It was no less than he deserved. He never should have let Gellert go. If anything, he was going easy on Albus – being discredited, losing his job, having his every move monitored? Nothing would ever be enough to compensate for his betrayal. 

Theseus nodded, as if he had never spoken a word of dissent.  
“As you say, sir. When are we going?”  
“We will go today. I don’t want word to get out.”  
He and Theseus were the only two in the room. The implication was clear. Gellert wanted to give Theseus the impression that he was not trusted. What would he do with _that_ information?

///

That night, after seeing Albus for the first time in twenty-eight years, Gellert was having trouble sleeping. He wondered about the pained look on Albus' face when he had seen that memory of the two of them: Was it because Albus still loved him? Or instead because he regretted having once loved him? It was difficult to say for certain. It wasn’t as if Gellert could answer the question in reverse.

Gellert couldn’t help but dwell on Albus’ response to his accusation that Newt was doing Albus’ bidding. Albus seemed to admire the younger Scamander, to be amused by him. It had taken a great deal of effort to toss the book of prophecies into Albus’ hands, and not hurl it at his head.  
How could Albus have fallen in love with that rumpled child? Honestly. It was insulting to be placed in _any_ category with the over-earnest little anarchist. 

But the sound of Albus' voice when he asserted, ‘no, we were closer than brothers.’ That had been… suggestive.  
Then again, the words alone – ‘closer than brothers’ – did not say much, considering what Aberforth was to Albus. Better to say that they had been _everything_ to one another. Or at least, Albus had been everything to him. After the first five years, expecting an owl that never came, Gellert had begun berating himself with the certainty that those few weeks together had meant nothing to Albus, that that was why he had never heard from him. But now that he had seen Albus’ face when confronted with Gellert’s memories… 

Now – what, exactly? However nostalgic Albus might be, he had been silent for twenty-eight years. The fact remained that Gellert had risked humiliating himself by coming back for nothing. 

No. No, he had not come back for Albus. He had not. It was still Albus’ responsibility to come to him. Albus had been the one to end it, he would be the one to initiate.  
As soon as he figured out that Gellert was hiding in plain sight. 

Gellert wondered - how long would it take him?  
He hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer – being Travers was repulsive. At least Graves had had taste. And intelligence. Trying to appear dense at all times was exhausting.

On the other hand, it wouldn’t be fun if it didn’t take Albus at least a week or two. And afterwards, when Albus came crawling back…  
He wouldn’t, though. Albus had never been one to crawl. No matter how subtle his approach might seem, it would be an attack. He would perhaps hex Gellert, begin tearing his clothes off, tease him until he was a puddle and then stop short, begin making demands.

Gellert groaned. 

He addressed his hardening cock impatiently. “Again, already? Pathetic.”  
He tried to think of something to make his erection go away, but no matter how mundane, his every thought returned to Albus.  
“Fine,” he sighed. “Have it your way.”

///

Ordering so many Aurors to converge on his rally had been one of his most satisfying moves in years. Obstinately playing into his enemy’s hands was sufficiently in character for Travers that Theseus had suspected nothing. He had put up some token resistance, of course, but he had known that it was a lost cause, arguing with the moron. 

Theseus would already be doubting the Ministry when he arrived at the rally. Seeing Gellert’s visions, and seeing how quick his fellow Aurors were to kill wizards whose only crime was _listening_ – Theseus would join him tonight, he was certain, and Leta as well. Where he went, she would follow. She had followed him to the Ministry, after all, and she was far too intelligent a witch to be serving the likes of Torquil Travers. 

The rally almost went to plan – baiting the Aurors and the crowd, stoking Theseus’ confusion and Leta’s curiosity… Credence came to him, and the new witch, the Legilimens. The flames consumed Krall (who had admired Albus in a way that went beyond professional respect – intolerable) and so many Aurors that both France and Britain would take many years to rebuild. Everything was perfect. 

Until Gellert spotted Newt.  
So self-righteous and passionate... just like Albus was. Was this why Albus had replaced him with the annoying little crup?

Gellert lost all restraint. He forgot about his plan to recruit Theseus and Leta – all he could think about was destroying Albus’ awkward baby-faced lover. Sixteen years Albus’ junior! And not in the least charismatic. Clever, though, and very difficult to get the better of. Gellert had been wondering for months what kind of games Albus played with Newt, and if he found them as satisfying as the games he and Gellert had once played together.  
Albus would not be playing games with him anymore. Albus was Gellert’s to play games with, and Gellert’s alone.

“Do you think Dumbledore will mourn for you?” Gellert asked him, the disdain in his voice implying the answer. He wanted Newt to know exactly why he was dying before setting the flames on him.  
But while Newt’s face looked confused, as if he had never thought to consider the question, Theseus… Theseus had looked startled, caught out. Gellert entered his mind for a moment – Theseus thought that Gellert meant him.

Had he had the wrong Scamander all this time?  
Certainly, it made more sense that Theseus would have caught Albus’ interest. But an Auror? What was Albus thinking? Very well. It would be no hardship to kill both brothers.

It was a shame to have to kill Leta instead – she was brighter than either of the wizards she had died for. And now, between her death and the (second) near murder of Newt, Theseus would not be coming to his side after all. But if he and Albus were involved, Gellert didn’t want him. Gellert still had Travers’ visage, and so he had Travers’ authority. It would not be difficult at all to create a vacancy and appoint a more suitable Head Auror. 

///

If Newt had caused Gellert to become... distracted... at the end of the rally, at least some good had come of his presence. Or, at least, of his niffler’s presence.  
Gellert could only imagine that Newt would tell the story as if it were some great victory on his part, but they both knew very well (as Albus would know) that such creatures went where they would. In this case, through an amphitheatre, past hundreds of other people wearing pocket watches and jewellery, their pockets full of wizarding gold… The niffler had been drawn by the greatest treasure in the room – the blood pact.

Gellert would later insist that he had _allowed_ the niffler to take the pendant from him. The notion that he would fail to notice a rodent crawling all over him was laughable. Gellert was not a man to miss the details – not when it came to the one thing most important to him.  
No, there had been no reason to prevent the theft – if Gellert killed Newt, he could get the pendant back right away. If Newt lived, then it would make its way to ‘Travers’ – or perhaps to Albus. Gellert hoped it was the latter – he was interested to see what would happen next.

The fact that neither Newt nor Theseus told ‘Travers’ anything about the pendant when they reconvened at the French Ministry told him that they were going to give it directly to Albus, while keeping the DMLE in the dark about it. That must mean that Newt – or Theseus – had recognized what it was. They were trying to protect Albus. Interesting.

So, it was surprising to Gellert, as he stood on the Hogwarts Viaduct on the following day, that Albus had ruined the Scamanders’ precautions by floating the pendant up where anyone could see it. What was Albus playing at?  
Too arrogant by half.  
Too hot to be believed.

It was even more arousing for Albus simply to have possession of the pact for the first time in almost three decades. And for him to handle it in the open where anyone could see it was as good as a declaration. Gellert was glad that Travers wore such ridiculously loose-fitting trousers.

Gellert’s victory did not last long. Albus lifted up his arms, and before Gellert could process what Albus intended, Theseus had already removed the admonitors. Gellert looked at Theseus in dismay. It was true - Theseus was attached to Albus – attached enough that he would risk Travers’ displeasure in order to cater to Albus’ desires. (Ignoring, for the moment, that Gellert had been stoking Theseus’ disrespect for Travers for days.)  
But in order for that little interaction to take place, it must also have been true that Albus knew how Theseus felt about him – and worse still, that they knew one another well enough for wordless communication at a distance. 

That was confirmation enough. Theseus would be putting in a request for two weeks bereavement leave, which ‘Travers’ would be happy to approve. This would give Gellert the time he needed to learn a new character – one who was considerably more difficult to impersonate. It was lucky that his fiancée had just died. Grief could be an excuse for any number of personality changes.

Vinda had grumbled about keeping Travers alive, but Gellert was glad that he had learned his lesson with Graves. Killing the man he was impersonating had been ill-advised. After all, he was certain to want to stop playing the part eventually. This time, because he still had Travers to hand, it would take only an obliviation and a couple of well-placed memory charms. No one would know that the substitution had ever been made.

Living in Travers’ skin had served its purpose. With Paris behind him, there was no reason why he might not do just as well playing the Head Auror instead. And Theseus was considerably brighter and better looking than Travers. Gellert scowled. More reason not to wait for the weekend. He would be escorting Theseus to Nurmengard that very night.

///

After returning to London as Theseus, it had taken Gellert two more weeks to face Albus. (He was not _afraid_ ; he was _biding his time._ )

He had taken a stunned Theseus to his cell and given Queenie the task of reading his memories of Albus, while he and Vinda returned Travers to his home and his life.  
Two days later, when Gellert came back for his report, Queenie (in a matter of fact way that Gellert would have expected from no wizard, much less a witch) had recited several lurid fantasies featuring Albus. Theseus had given a great deal of thought to the matter of what he would do if he convinced Albus to join him in bed – or in any number of other locations, with any number of other people. After more than an hour of this, Gellert had stopped Queenie and asked if there was anything he should know that did not involve purely imaginary sex. 

“Theseus has an irrepressible fantasy life.”  
Yes. They had covered that.  
“But _in real life_ -?”  
“He loves him.”

It was exactly as Gellert had feared.

“No, Silly, Theseus loves Albus. The fantasies are… he almost can’t help that, poor guy. But his feelings for Albus are not just sexual. He respects him, admires him, really cares about him.”

It was very difficult to imagine that Theseus knew enough about Albus to _love him_ if he had had so many fantasies about Albus fucking his _female_ ex-fiancee.  
It was also difficult to imagine why Gellert was continuing to keep someone around who had no compunction about addressing him as ‘Silly.’ Also ‘Sweetie’ and ‘Honey’ - she employed a host of demeaning pet names.

“Albus used to be his teacher, and Theseus was one of his best students…”  
A book flew off the shelf and hit Queenie on the shoulder.  
“Hey! There’s no call for that!” she said indignantly, a fierce look on her face.

Gellert was unsure whether it was better to confess that it had been unintentional, and by extension that his emotions had been so far out of control, or to appear to be the type of leader who would throw objects at his followers, which _he was_ , when it was called for... but not the type who would throw objects _at Queenie_. That was to say, he was not so dense as Travers. Being polite had been what had brought her into the fold, and right now, he needed her. Not just for her legilimency, but for the way she tended to Credence with the gentleness he needed.  
“You’re right Queenie. I apologize.” 

Queenie smiled at him uncertainly and took a sip of her coffee, eyeing him over the rim of the cup. Gellert wished her Muggle had come with her. She hadn't smiled more than halfway since joining him. He might have learned to tolerate the man if it would have kept the young woman happy. It would not take much to lose her.

Queenie set down her cup and looked at Gellert almost sternly.  
“Albus is never going to return anyone's feelings but yours. You need to stop worrying.”  
Gellert frowned and left quickly before his annoyance could fully rise to the surface. His occlusion was strong enough to keep even Queenie out most of the time, but when his emotions came on quick and strong, she too often heard whatever he was thinking. 

He returned to his bedroom to stew. Queenie had read Theseus’ mind only, not Albus’. She had a bad habit of assessing individuals that she had never been within a hundred miles of. Perhaps he had overstated his 'need' for this particular Legilimens. Her emotions were constantly shifting, she could not restrain herself from giving advice, she seemed to be trying, at times, to manipulate Gellert into losing his temper... There were at least as many drawbacks to Queenie's presence as there were gains.  
Gellert was a _Seer_ , and he did not feel qualified to make pronouncements about what any one person was 'never going to feel.' As far as what Albus was feeling _now_? Gellert had more faith in his own close up assessment of Albus than he did in Queenie's remote reading.

That had been the plan when he had abucted Theseus in the first place – to visit Albus while disguised as Theseus, in order to see just exactly what they were – or what they might be - to one another. But even now, as he was walking up the Viaduct towards Albus, he was telling himself that it was not, after all, particularly important for him to know what Albus’ feelings were one way or the other. If nothing had actually happened yet, then what did it matter if something _might have happened_ under other circumstances?

“It matters,” Gellert muttered under his breath, and he steeled himself for the worst case scenario – that he might have Albus’ attention, but only as someone else.

///

At the risk of becoming predictable, after the initial small talk, Gellert asked about Newt. Even Gellert had to admit that he was belabouring the point, but he had to be sure. The younger Scamander might simply be better at keeping his emotions off of his face than his brother. It was possible that they were both interested in Albus – or that Albus was interested in both of them.  
But Albus had answered his questions unequivocally; it was clear that Newt was not a threat. Now, Gellert needed to know whether he should have been worrying about Theseus instead.

“Why are you here, Theseus?” Albus asked, seemingly impatient with Theseus’ presence.  
That seemed a good sign.

“To ask after the blood pact. It seems important, if you are going to fight Grindelwald –“  
“I never said I _would_ fight him – I said I _couldn’t_ , because of the blood pact.”  
Well, yes - _and_ he had said that he wanted nothing more than to see ‘the defeat of Grindelwald,’ so…

“I didn’t say that I would if the blood pact did not exist. In any case, I cannot guarantee that I _can_ destroy it.”  
“Newt said that you were going to try.”  
“Did he? I still haven’t done enough research to know that it is even theoretically possible to destroy it. When Gellert and I made it, we were specifically looking for something permanent, unbreakable.”

That was still not an answer. Surely Albus would never break their blood pact? That was not supposed to be Albus’ next move. Where was it, Gellert wondered. In his private quarters? On his person right now? It might be worth the pain of seducing him as Theseus, if he could get the pact away from him before he _destroyed it._

“I don’t understand why you made it in the first place. A blood pact, Albus. No one makes those anymore.”

“We were young. We didn’t understand what we were doing.”  
Didn’t understand?!  
“I saw the way you looked at that memory of you two. You knew _exactly_ what you were doing.”  
“Being in love with a person is different than knowing the consequences of being in love with them.”

Albus had admitted it! He _had_ been in love with Gellert. Whether he still was… the phrasing was too abstract to be certain.  
“I’m well aware,” Gellert murmured. 

Gellert couldn’t wait any longer to know what Albus' feelings were for Theseus – if there was a chance that he had moved on to loving Theseus instead of Gellert, or if he wanted instead just to fuck the Auror, or...  
Albus’ answer was an unequivocal and impatient ‘no’ to anything but a limited sharing of space in a professional capacity. He had followed this clear rejection of Theseus' advances with a march to his office door. Gellert was so elated that he found himself pulling Albus to him and whispering in his ear the words that he had been determined never to say:  
“I still love you, you know.”

It was over too soon. Albus was no longer in his arms, and Gellert was forced to remember that he was in another man’s body.  
“Theseus, go home,” Albus said, in an almost pitying voice.

Good. Good. Gellert had taken the risk of being alone in a room with Albus, and he was walking away undiscovered, with all of the information he had sought. There was this new question of whether Albus was seeking to break the pact, but Gellert had time. That was a problem too difficult for even Albus to solve quickly.

Suddenly, Gellert was a bit sorry that Albus had not recognized him on this visit. After all, he had accomplished all of his original goals for Travers, in addition to this new goal of establishing that Albus did not in any way belong to Theseus. This game had been going on for quite a long time, and Gellert was beginning to realize that he didn’t need for Albus to suffer quite so much as he had thought.  
But he remained resolved to wait for Albus to come to him. He would never again risk making the first move – never again give Albus the opportunity not to reciprocate.

His attention elsewhere, Gellert just barely caught Albus saying something new:  
“… Travers.”

“Travers?” What had Albus said about Travers when Gellert had been lost in his reflections? “Yes, Travers is an idiot, isn’t he? I don’t understand how we all work with him day in and day out without going insane.”

“No, you don’t understand – he’s already tried to kill you once.”  
“You’re mad, Albus! What could you possibly mean?”  
“Sending you in there to Grindelwald’s rally. Did you notice he didn’t go himself? Just sent all the Aurors in there to die? In fact… I’m beginning to find it suspicious that _you and Newt_ didn’t die. Very strange. Don’t you think?”

Albus _had_ figured out that Travers had actually been Gellert. Why hadn’t Albus told anyone? Had he been knowingly playing the game too? He had. He must have been. The pendant! Albus had been taunting him with it! Gauging his reaction!  
Gellert very nearly swept Albus up and kissed him, but that wouldn’t do at all. The game had suddenly become much more interesting.

So, Albus knew that Travers was secretly Gellert? It was time to see how he would handle Travers now that he really was Travers again. It would take very little to force a confrontation. Gellert would plant the memory of Albus showing off the blood pact, and then Theseus would share that Professor Dumbledore seemed not to be particularly interested in breaking it. 

Gellert walked backwards down the hall, taking one last look at the most remarkable wizard he would ever know.  
“Get some sleep, Albus. You look terrible.”  
It was a lie. The man had never looked sexier.

///

It had taken a week, but Travers had finally followed up on the lead that ‘Theseus’ had given him and gone to meet Albus at Hogwarts. Gellert had been looking forward to hearing Travers’ indignant account, but unexpectedly, he had never returned to the office. What had Albus done to the obnoxious wizard? Gellert was more eager than ever to know the story. How long had it taken Albus to recognize that Travers was simply Travers after all? What had he put Travers through in the meantime?

Gellert arrived at work early the next day, but he did not want to rouse suspicion by visiting Travers too early. Instead, he waited until 10 am, walking with the grim determination of a man who would rather be anywhere else, but knows his duty.

He approached the desk of Travers’ new assistant.  
“I was needing to check in with Mr. Travers.”  
“Ah… Mr. Travers is out, I’m afraid, Mr. Scamander. He left at 9:30 am with several Aurors.”  
“I am the _Head_ Auror! Why was I not notified?!”  
“Oh, I – I’m sorry sir. I’m not sure… “ 

The hapless young wizard began rummaging through the pile of parchment on his desk. Gellert pointed to a memo half hidden under a scone, marked ‘URGENT.’  
“Yes, that’s it!” said the idiot, as if he had accomplished something marvellous by recognizing the paper after Gellert had found it himself. He handed the memo to Gellert. There was a tiny note clipped to the top – ‘Interoffice memo – direct to Auror Scamander immediately.’ 

The memo itself read:  
‘URGENT – Headed to Hogwarts to arrest that traitor. Meet me at my office at 9:15 with a team of six Aurors. We cannot wait. Dumbledore is a flight risk.’

Flight risk? He certainly was not! If anything, Albus was likelier than ever to stay in Britain – he had a game to play.

“You were supposed to send this to me, and you used it as a _plate_ for your _scone_?!”  
“I’m – sorry? Sir?”  
“Sorry is unacceptable!” Gellert roared. “You are impeding my work – interfering with intricate plans beyond your comprehension! You have the brains of a squirrel! How am I supposed to get anything done under these conditions?!”

There was a small crowd gathering. Gellert considered briefly whether he needed to do a mass obliviation, but he decided that it would work just as well – perhaps better, under the circumstances - to leave his position at the Ministry earlier than he had originally intended.  
He picked up the scone and bounced it off the nose of the incompetent wizard, before stalking off to his office. Gellert tasked one of his Aurors with letting him know when Travers returned with Dumbledore, and then he settled into his office to make the necessary changes to his plan while he waited. 

He had been writing for only thirty minutes when there was a knock at the door.  
“Is Travers back already?” he asked before the door had fully opened.  
But the face at the door was not that of one of his Aurors. Travers was not, in fact, back yet, and so Theseus was needed to testify before the Wizengamot. In his enthusiasm to arrest Albus, Travers had forgotten that this was the day when he was being called on to explain the debacle in Paris. In his absence, Theseus was the next in command, and was furthermore an eyewitness. 

There was seemingly nothing for it. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway. Albus would make short work of Travers without Gellert’s assistance. He only regretted that he would not be there to see it.

///

It was after noon when Gellert was finally released from the Wizengamot. It had seemed an inconvenience when he received the call, but he was delighted now to have been given such an opportunity to thoroughly discredit Travers, and at the same time subtly sow doubts about Theseus’ loyalties. He might even have persuaded a few of the members of the Wizengamot to join him, given ‘Theseus’ sympathetic appraisal of ‘Grindelwald’s apparent aims.’ 

Nevertheless, he had lost an hour and a half – surely Travers was back by now, with or without Albus. He could not waste any time with Travers’ imbecilic assistant (yet another reason to regret having had to kill Leta), so instead he made his way directly to the interrogation rooms. There was a young Auror pacing in the corridor looking uncertain. 

“Where is Travers?” Gellert asked.  
The young woman jumped. She turned to Gellert. “He’s in there, but… I don’t think –“  
“No, clearly you do _not_ think, if you were about to tell your boss what he should not do. Is he with Dumbledore?”  
“Y-yes?” She answered. She straightened her posture and corrected herself. “Ah – yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” She pointed to the door at the end of the corridor. “Room D.”  
“Any observers?”  
“Travers demanded – “

Had he _asked_ about Travers’ demands? Gellert missed Nurmengard, where his followers were at least properly trained. Aside from Queenie. That woman was driving him spare. 

“No, then?”  
“No.”  
“Very well. You are dismissed, Auror.”

She paused uncertainly for a moment, as if expecting something more, but soon she turned away and headed for the main hallway.

Gellert rushed to the door the young Auror had indicated and knocked. Nothing. That did not bode well. He opened the door, and as he opened it, announced himself with the words, “I heard that you were holding Albus Dumbledore…”  
Was that?  
“… in here.”  
Gellert trailed off in disbelief. Albus had _Travers_ pinned to the wall and was kissing him with such passion that he had not even heard ‘Theseus’ enter the room.

“Albus?! What the fuck!”  
_Still_ no response.  
Gellert dropped Travers to the floor with a wave of his wand and grabbed Albus, turning him around to face him. Albus looked startled, as if he had, until this very moment, been unaware that there was a third person in the room. 

“Why were you kissing Travers?”  
“That’s not Travers, Theseus.”  
Oh. No, surely not.

“That most certainly is Travers.”  
“No, it’s –“ Albus sighed. “That’s Gellert Grindelwald.”

Gellert was not sure how to feel. On the one hand, Albus _had_ , in fact, made the first move at last - and what a move he had made. If there had ever been a question about how Albus felt about him, the way that he had been grinding against Travers left absolutely no question. He had been perhaps less than a minute away from making the Moron-in-Chief come in his pants.  
But that was exactly the problem. Somehow, Albus had spent three hours today in the company of this dull wizard, not to mention however long he had spent with him the day before, and still had not divined that Travers was no longer Gellert in disguise. It was insulting.

“What makes you think that _that_ is Grindelwald?”  
“It’s a long story. Just – please, Theseus, don’t call for a Dementor – please, I’ll do anything – “

Anything?! Perhaps Albus had simply developed a habit of fucking his way out of difficult situations. It seemed out of character, but it had been a long time. People changed, Gellert supposed. He had to know the truth: had that passion been for him? Or had it not been passion at all? Had what Gellert had seen merely been an act? A convincing distraction for Travers or Gellert or whomever?

“Oh? You would do - anything?” Gellert asked, pulling Albus tightly against him.  
Albus pushed away. “Theseus – I can’t –“  
“You said ‘anything’ – and you kissed Travers, after all –“  
“I did not kiss _Travers!_ I kissed _Gellert!_ ”  
Perhaps Albus really had meant that kiss. It had looked like he had, certainly.

“ _Gellert_ , is it? What exactly is it that you feel for _Gellert_ , Albus? Is this why you never said yes to me? Because you were pining after some criminal?”  
“I have never kissed anyone but Gellert, Theseus. I’ll do it to save his life, but just consider - do you really want me to kiss you if I’m only doing it for someone else?”

Finally.  
Gellert reversed his transfiguration.  
“Never kissed anyone but me, Liebling? That’s a shame. Without any frame of reference, you have no way of knowing what a very good kisser I am.”  
“Gellert?! But –“

Albus looked down at Travers and back at Gellert.  
“Sweet Merlin. I kissed Travers.”  
Gellert laughed, releasing the tension of decades of doubt and recrimination.  
“Yes, you did. I will forgive you because you didn’t know it wasn’t me. I shall have to obliviate him though.”

No one could be allowed to kiss Albus Dumbledore like that and remember it. Ordinarily, he might have said ‘and live,’ but Travers was about to be ruined over ‘his’ incompetence in Paris. The continued disintegration of the DMLE was too important – Gellert could not allow his jealousy to dominate him at the moment.

Especially not now. Now it was time to claim Albus for his own and take him away with him. For years, having Albus back had been nothing more than a dimly conceived fantasy, but now he had what had seemed impossible just six weeks before.

Or did he?  
If Albus was joining him now, would he still want him two months from now? (Gellert tried not to examine where that figure had come from.) He did not want to wonder later if Albus had begun to feel trapped by his association with Gellert, unable to leave and rejoin society.  
He needed to know always that Albus was there by his own choice. Albus had hurt him too badly – it might take years before Gellert could trust him again.

“It seems that 'Theseus' has been sharing information with Grindelwald, and is now kidnapping you and taking you to him.”  
“Kidnapping?”  
“I’m giving you an out. If you find you need one.”  
“Fine, yes. Kidnap me,” Albus answered, after too many precious minutes of meaningless debate.  
So Gellert did. 

////

Gellert had only just closed the door to the bedroom when Albus pushed him onto the bed – and did not, as expected, follow him there. Instead, he stood beside the bed, scowling.

“I cannot believe you made me feel like such an idiot for thinking Travers was you when Travers _was_ you!”

Vinda must have told him. She was still annoyed with Gellert for ‘being reduced to babysitting wizards who do not deserve to live.’ It was probably for the best. Albus would have been far angrier if Gellert had told him at some point _after_ they had had sex.

“Travers was not me when you were kissing him – and not when he was interrogating you, either. How could you have still thought it was me, after all that time alone with the man? He’s almost violently stupid!”  
“I was so determined that he was you that day in the classroom, it was difficult to let go of my certainty.”

“You knew already in the classroom?”  
This was not news to Gellert, but he still did not know what had given him away. Pretending to be surprised was the better course of action.

“Of course, I knew. It didn’t make sense for you to have those memories, otherwise. You would only give something like that up _willingly_. No one could take them from you against your will.”  
That was flattering. And also true.  
“And the admonitors…” Albus said, biting his lip. He removed his waistcoat and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh? You like me restraining you?” Gellert asked, waving the Elder Wand. Albus’ shirt transfigured into a rope, tying his wrists together behind his back.

Albus rolled his eyes, and his shirt returned to being a shirt and dropped to the floor.  
“I like you _marking me_.”  
Gellert smiled. He would like to mark Albus, too. Very much so.  
He considered whether it would be enough for him to bite Albus, but those marks never lasted very long. Biting would do for now, but he might suggest a tattoo, after enough time had passed. Better not to get ahead of himself. 

“I like that, too, Liebling. Come here and let me mark you.”  
“Not yet, Mr. Grindelwald! I am not through with you! You also told me that you had captured Theseus after the rally, but you were still Travers on the Viaduct, I think.”  
“I never said that I had captured him _directly_ after the rally.”

Albus walked over to the bed. He removed Gellert’s shoes and socks by hand. He joined Gellert in bed, kneeling beside him and unbuttoning the top button of his trousers. Then Albus stopped, folding his hand into a fist and tapping it against his lips a few times before dropping his hand into his lap.

“How long after the rally, Gellert?” He asked quietly, without looking at him. “When Theseus visited me to ask after the blood pact – that was you. Wasn’t it?”  
“Yes, that was me,” Gellert confessed.  
Albus met Gellert’s eyes. “You said – you said that – “  
“I still love you.”

“Do you?” Albus asked. His voice sounded accusatory, but his eyes were uncertain.  
All these long years... Had Albus been entertaining the same doubts as Gellert?  
“Come here, Albus,” Gellert answered.

Albus lay down beside Gellert, and Gellert turned to face him. He laid a hand on Albus’ face.  
“I love this beard, you know? But I am going to need for you to grow your hair back out.”  
Albus laughed. “Oh? And what about you?” he asked, tugging at Gellert’s closely cropped hair. 

It was a fair point, but he was not going to concede this to Albus yet. Albus had been vocal all that summer about how much he had liked Gellert’s wavy shoulder length hair. Gellert needed some things to be different this time, so that he could feel that they were starting over – not simply recapitulating a doomed endeavour.

“It is good for duelling.”  
“I’ll braid it for you. Grow it out, Gellert.”

Gellert pushed Albus onto his back and moved to lie on top of him.

“I _do_ still love you, you infuriating wizard.”  
“Good. I should hate to have come all this way for someone who finds me merely entertaining.”  
“Albus!” Gellert growled.  
“I mean, I love you too,” Albus said with a mischievous smile, before pulling Gellert down for a kiss, their first proper kiss in 28 years. 

Gellert quieted the voice that wondered if Albus meant it, and kissed Albus back. After all, the game was over, and he had won. It was an auspicious new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Between what is right and what is easy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24966838) by [navvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navvy/pseuds/navvy)




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